Broken Pieces
by But I Have Promises To Keep
Summary: What if it was Natara who was taken at the end of volume 10? Will Mal be able to rescue her from both her captor and herself? Inspired by the song "Broken Pieces" by Apocalyptica.
1. Taken

**So I'm back :D I know I haven't posted anything in forever…but that's because I sorta managed to injure both my wrists while taking my CPR test (I got really into it, okay?) and typing/writing was absolute torture. **

**Anyways, I know this is really short, but the chapters will probably be a little longer once it picks up a little bit. This takes place at the end of volume 10. **

* * *

The silence seems to last an eternity.

Like the calm after a storm, there's a moment when the world seems to absorb the impact of the explosion. I freeze for a split second, too shocked to move. Then the adrenaline kicks in, and I start pull myself off the ground. I can feel something hot run down my face; I must be bleeding. Still, aside from a throbbing pain near my left temple, I don't think there's anything else that's wrong.

Accept for the fact that there was a bomb. A bomb in Mal's apartment.

_Mal…_

That name seems to stir something inside of me, something that doesn't feel pain. Something that want nothing more than to make sure he's alright.

I open my mouth to call out, but before I can even form the first syllable I feel a hand clamp over my mouth. I reach up to fight, nails digging into skin as I try to get away. I try to kick them, but by the time the thought even forms in my mind they grab me by the hair and slam my head into the sidewalk. My vision flashes red for just a moment as the wind is knocked right out of me, but adrenaline keeps most of the pain at bay. Quicker than they probably expected, I frantically try to scramble to my feet, scrambling for purchase in the rumble-covered sidewalk.

That's when I feel a second pair of hands grab me from the side. I don't even look at them before I try and push myself away, but within seconds I can feel the cruel coldness of a needle just above my elbow. The effect is almost instant. I try and call out one last time, but my jaw feels so tight that I can barely open it. I fight to keep my eyes open, but before I know it my vision is blurring and my eyelids are drooping.

Then there's the feeling of darkness engulfing me, squeezing as tightly as a boa constrictor. At first, I think there's something wrong with the lights.

But as soon as I feel myself fall, I know that the darkness is inside of me.


	2. Summer

**I know this chapter is probably going to seem really confusing at first…but I promise it'll be explained in the new few chapters ;) Review replies: **

**mozzi-girl: Thanks!**

**NiekaWow: Thanks so much, that really means a lot :D**

**HopelessRomantic1994: Thanks!**

**Crimson Endings: Thanks!**

* * *

I can feel the embrace of blankets around me, keeping me in a pocket of warmth and holding me to sleep. I should wake up. It's probably time anyway. But I don't want to, and for some reason I feel so groggy that I don't think I could if I tried.

But suddenly I'm aware of the coolness of wood on my face, and that fact that I have no idea where I am.

My head snaps up and I look around, a cold sweat forming on my skin. It's semi-dark, but I can still tell I'm in what looks like a lavishly decorated dining room. There doesn't seem to be anyone else around, I'm seated all alone at the thick wooden table.

What I thought was a cover is actually a jacket draped across my shoulders, black and official-looking. Is it…mine? It's my size, so I guess it must be. I don't have any reason to think otherwise.

I pull myself up, walking over to a heavy curtain on the wall and gently pulling it back. The window opened slightly, but I can still tell that it's VERY hot outside. The ground is dry and cracked, seemingly stretching on forever. There isn't another sign of life for miles. Where am I?

"Good, you're awake".

I nearly jump out of my skin at the sound of a cool female voice, one that seems to send an involuntary chill down my spine for no reason whatsoever. I slowly turn to see a woman on the other side of the dim room. She's rather old, with short auburn hair and half-moon glasses. Something about her doesn't seem right to me. Something that I can't quite place.

"I'm sorry…but…who are you?" I say, staying by the window.

She turns her head slightly, almost like an amused child. "Poor thing…you really must have hit your head hard". Hit my head? I reach my hand up to my temple, and find a small patch of gauze. Is this why I don't know this woman, or where I am?

"Tell me" she says, smiling sweetly. "Do you know the date?".

Truthfully, I'm not sure. But I don't want to get it wrong, it's the basic question asked to make sure I don't have a concussion. It's obviously summer, judging by the weather. I know the year though, I can even remember where I was on New Years. "July?" I guess. She keeps looking at me expectantly. "2009".

"That's right" she says. Her smile falters. "And you still know who you are, right?".

I give her an odd look. How could I not? I'm Natara. An FBI agent. "Of course".

"Just making sure" she adds.

I nod, looking back out the window. Something is still not right. Something's bothering me, like a missing piece of a puzzle. I don't doubt the fact that where I am and who this woman is will come back…but there's something missing.

Then it hits me. Someone I love is missing.

"Where's Shawn?" I say, turning around. He has to be somewhere around. We're practically inseparable.

"Maybe…maybe you should sit down" she says, taking a seat herself. After a minute I follow suit. I can tell by her body language that something is wrong, that she's nervous. She hides it well, but something in her eyes tells me something is wrong. "Shawn is dead".

"What?" I say, my ears unable to process the words.

"That's why you're here, he died very recently. It's a very long story—".

"You're wrong" I interrupt, standing up. My chair goes flying backwards, but I don't care. I barely manage to hold the woman's gaze for more than a few seconds before I can't take it anymore, and I storm out the closest door and into a dim hallway. Surely it's not true. Shawn can't be dead. It's not possible. All I have to do is find him, and after that…after that we'll go home.

At the end of the hall is a door that's slightly ajar, and I barely make it inside to the small and empty room before a lump starts to form in my throat. I force it down, keeping myself from crying. I can't right now. As soon as I leave here, anyone who looks at me would know I was crying. And that woman out there, whoever she is, is not someone I want to witness that.

I take a few minutes to compose myself, letting the lump in my throat dissolve. I'll find out the truth, I swear I will. I'll get to the bottom of this.

I'm about to leave, go back and start asking questions again, when something catches my eye. Something out the window.

An owl.

Not a real one, but one of the plastic ones that gardeners use to keep squirrels and small birds away. It's hanging on a tree just outside, blowing back and forth with the faint wind. It's probably nothing, after all, they're not that uncommon. But that fact that there doesn't appear to be any purpose for it, no garden or anything in sight, makes me wonder if there isn't some other purpose. That…and for some reason it seems to remind me of something. I don't know what…but it does. I just can't seem to put my finger on it.

And so, within seconds, I find myself opening the window and climbing out without so much as looking back.


	3. The Outsiders

**Thanks so much to _Mozzi-girl, HopelessRomantic1994, NiekaWow, Crimson Endings _and _Nat157s _for the reviews!**

* * *

It's as hot outside as I thought.

The ground is dry and cracked, and as I look around I can't see anything other than the building behind me. It's nothing more than a big empty, endless space that leads to who-knows-where.

When I reach the owl, which is barely hanging on a very small dead tree, it falls to the ground with my slightest touch. It lands lightly and the earth, and I see something from the back fall off. I shove the owl, which could now be mistaken as something that simply got caught in the breeze, aside with the tip of my trainer. Next to it I find a small brown paper package, barely the size of my palm and covered in twine that obviously had it tied to the plastic figure. I look around quickly before I start to tear it open, making sure there's no one else around to stop me. This package has to be here for a reason, and I want to know what.

When I finally rip the paper off I find what looks like a cross between a cell phone and a radio. It's obviously only intended for short range conversations, but the up side is that it's probably hard to intercept it.

I look around one last time before I press the 'talk' button.

"Hello?" I say quietly. I let go and listen carefully. Nothing.

Figuring it might come in handy at some point, I stick the little thing in my pocket anyway. You never know, and considering I still have no idea where I am, I could regret leaving it behind later.

I crawl back in the window, gently shutting it behind me. To my surprise, it clicks as soon as I shut it. Must be automated; thank God I let it open while I was outside. I have to wonder why it was unlocked in the first place though.

I'm about to leave the small room when I catch something on the little radio.

"Nat?".

My heart nearly skips a beat. I grab the radio from my pocket, fumbling with it for a second. There's only one person on this earth who ever called me that. "Hello?".

I hear the slightest sound of someone taking a breath of relief. "Thank God you're alright".

My heart sinks down to my stomach. That's not Shawn's voice, it's not even close. "Who is this?".

"Mal, who else would it be?".

"Mal…" I whisper to myself, letting the name play on my lips for a moment. I know that name from somewhere. I don't know where, but like the owl, it just seem like it's something I should recognize. Even the name itself seems to fit in my mouth, like I've said it many times before. Just the ghost of a memory. I take a minute to think, and after I come up with nothing, I say "I think there's been some mistake. I don't know anyone with that name".

"What are you talking about?" the voice says, clearly confused.

"I don't know you" I say firmly.

There's a moment's pause, where 'Mal' seems to take in my words. "Nat…we've been partners for years".

"Like I said, you're wrong. My partners name is–_was_–Shawn" I say quietly.

There's a long pause, and I can hear the man on the other line breathing. "What did they do to you?".

"I don't know what you're talking about" I answer. "Who are you?".

"It's a long story".

I reach over and shut the door, not enough to activate the lock system, but enough to make it look like it's closed. "I'm listening".

"My name is Mal Fallon" he starts, talking quickly. "I work for the San Francisco police department. About a year and a half ago, when you were sent out here for work, you became my partner".

"San Francisco?" I say, scrunching up my nose despite the fact that he can't see me. "What was I doing there?".

I hear another voice, a woman's this time, in the background. It's too distant to hear, but I know it's there. "No time" he says, his voice filled with a sudden sense of urgency. "Please, just trust me on this".

"And why should I trust someone's who's face I can't even see?" I ask. He doesn't respond. "If you are who you say you are…then what happened to my old partner?".

"Again, long story. We don't have much time" he says. I hear the woman's voice once more, a little louder and more urgent.

"Is he—is he dead?" I ask.

There's a deafening silence that follows this question, as if Mal seems to think about this for a minute. "Not exactly".

Great, just great. Looks like it'll be a while until I get to the bottom of this. "At least tell me what's going on".

I hear the woman speak again, but this time Mal seems to ignore her because he talks right over her. "That woman you're with—".

"The older woman?" I interrupt "what about her?".

"Her name is Genevieve Collins, she's extremely dangerous. And she's been after you for years".

"So what are you saying?".

"I'm saying you just need to hold out until we can get to you. Don't listen to a word she says. And make sure you watch your back. I don't know what she did to make you lose your memory…but I know it's not good".

"So why not come get me now?" I comment skeptically, leaning against the wall. Does he really expect me to belive this? You can't just _wipe _someone memory. Especially concidering the only missing memories are short-term. I mean, even if he is telling the truth, how much time could I have possibly missed? "It would save you the trouble".

"We can't. We know where you are…but there's no way to get there. They'd catch us if we came anywhere close".

"Helicopter?" I suggest.

"They'd know we're coming long before we got there".

"Fine then" I say, starting to pace along the edge of the wall. "At least tell me this: What's with the owl?".

I can almost hear him smile, just by the way his breathing changes.

But before he can answer the door flies open, filling the room with light. My jaw drops in surprise, and at the worst possible time, the radio slips from my fingers and lands on the floor with an audible smack.


	4. The Room

**Thanks so much to _HopelessRomantic1994, Mozzi-girl, bugreid, Nat157s and Crimson Endings _for the reviews!**

* * *

The hallway outside is empty.

At first I think it's a trick of the light, or maybe the person stepped to the side. But no, there's no one there, as if a non-existent breeze pushed it open.

The radio, which luckily I didn't break when it dropped, lays at my feet. I can still hear the faint sound of Mal and the woman's voices, even before I pick it up and hold it to my face.

"Sorry about that" Mal says after a few moments of what sounds like bickering.

"You—You unlocked the window. You made sure this room was open" I say, putting the pieces together. "How?".

"The whole building runs on an electronic system, and I'm lucky to have the word's best hacker with me at the moment" Mal says slyly.

"And they won't catch you?".

"As long as we don't do anything drastic". There's a long pause.

"Can you see me too?" I ask. "With surveillance cameras or something?".

"Sometimes. There's a lot of blind spots".

This has me taken back slightly. I'm not sure if this should be comforting or not. I'm not really sure yet if this 'Mal' person is my guardian angel, or just someone who's trying to mess my life up even more.

"Someone's coming" Mal says suddenly.

"Who? Who's—" I start, but before I can finish the question I hear a click and know he must have hung up. In blind panic I shove the radio in my pocket, frantically trying to keep it out if sight. When I'm done, I calmly walk into the hallway, as if I'd been expecting to meet someone there all along.

"There you are".

The woman that Mal called 'Genevieve' is waiting for me, as if she's known where I've been all along. I hope she didn't hear me speak, or else she'd either think I'm crazy or up to something. For a long time I just look at her, imagining her as a cold-blooded criminal. She doesn't exactly look the part; so either she's the worlds best actress and I'm a terrible judge of character, or Mal's a liar.

She nods for me to follow her and I do as she says, feeling rather like a dumb little lost ducking the whole time. She leads me down the hallway, but before we reach the door to the dining room a door nearby creeps open.

I remember what Mal said about everything being automated, and how he can usually see where I am. Is he sending me a message? Is there something inside I need to see?

"What's in here?" I ask, gesturing to the cracked door. Surely she'll just tell me, she probably doesn't have much to hide.

"Nothing, it's just empty".

But I can see a glint of glass and gold, and before she can stop me, I push the door open and take a few hesitant steps inside.

"Oh. My. God".

I take a step back in shock, my hand over my mouth in terror. My jaw drops, and my heart thuds inside my chest. I think I'm about to be sick. Never, not even in pictures, have I even seen something so vile and grotesque.

I whip around, my hair flying in my face, and look Genevieve dead in the eye. "There are some things you need to explain" I say, trying not to look at what's inside again. With everything else that's going on, I don't think I could handle seeing _that_ sight again. "Right Now".


	5. Another Piece

**Thanks so much to _Crimson Endings, Nat157s, ZeDancingHobbit _and _Mozzi-girl_ for the reviews :D**

* * *

"When Shawn died" Genevieve starts, a slight edge to her voice. "You left the FBI".

"And why would I do that?".

She gives me a sharp look, one that says I need to shut up. "They never found his killer. He was shot going home from work one day. You were with him, even saw his face. But even after you identified the killer, he still managed to weasel out of a sentence. One night…you slipped away and killed him".

She pauses for a second, letting it all sink in. Am I really a cold-blooded killer? I don't think I've ever killed anyone before, I haven't been in the FBI long enough for that, but I just can't see it happening. I can't see myself staining my hands with blood just to get revenge, even if I'd lost all faith in the law enforcement system.

"You were on the run for a long time. I found you. Took you in. Protected you".

For the first time, I find myself looking at Genevieve, really looking at her. Is it possible that she's the reason I'm not dead? Or worse, stuck inside a jail cell for the rest of my life?

"Then what—" I ask, motioning to the door behind me. In the corner of my eye, I can see the skulls and body parts behind the glass. It makes my skin crawl. Surely, if I had met Genevieve before, I'd be used to it. "—is all that for?".

"I think you've heard enough today. Give it time to sink in". she says, the edge in her voice much clearer, almost like a threat. Her tone sends a chill down my spine, more so than that room filled with human misery did. And as she puts a hand on my shoulder to lead me away, it turns on a thousand alarm bells in my brain. And for some reason, a reason I don't quite understand, I think she's sending a message.

_'Go along with this…or you're dead'._

* * *

"Mal?" I whisper into the radio. "Mal? Are you there?".

The room I'm in is dimly lit, the curtains drawn. Genevieve sent me here, telling me I should probably get my rest. I think she just doesn't know what to do with me. Now that I'm doubting her.

"Mal?" I call one last time after over an hour of static. I peel back the thick curtain, hoping I'm not out of range. Suddenly the static disappears, and I can faintly hear Mal's voice say my name.

"Thank God" I say, almost overwhelmed with relief. "Mal…I think I'm in trouble".

"No duh" he says sarcastically. "You remember something?".

"No…it's just…" I take a breath, gathering my thoughts. "I've met Genevieve before, haven't I?".

"Yes".

"And…she tried to kill me".

This time there's a long pause. "In a way". I don't respond for a moment, trying to piece everything together in my mind. But I can't. Nothing about this fits, and I really don't know what to believe. My gut says I should trust Mal…but the logical side of me says that Genevieve's story is completely plausible. "Natara, if you trust me, we can try to get you out of there. But like I said, I _need_ you to trust me".

Before I answer, I shut my eyes for just a moment, arranging everything I can to try to for together the puzzle of my life. But I can't see the whole picture…if I don't have all the pieces.

"Give me one reason" I respond "why I should trust you".

"Genevieve never said you got hurt when Shawn was killed, right?" Mal says.

"Yeah". I don't know how he knows this. I guess there must me microphones in some places too. I'd really like to meet this 'hacker' of Mal's if I get the chance.

"Then how did you get that scar on your arm?".

"Scar? I don't have—" I reach over, and just like he said, I can feel the faint traces of a jagged scar right where the sleeve of my shirt starts. It's long-faded with age…I've had this scar for a while.

Which means that I should remember where I got it.

Mal was right. My memories _have_ been tampered with.

"Mal…I trust you" I say after a moment, when the initial shock starts to wear off. "Just tell me what to do".


	6. Better Run

**Review replies:**

**ZeDancingHobbit: Thanks for the review! **

**HopelessRomantic1994: Thanks so much!**

**mozzi-girl: Thanks a lot! **

**Crimson Endings: Thanks!**

**Nat157s: Thanks, that really means a lot to me :D**

* * *

Waiting for darkness to fall feels like the longest thing I've ever experienced.

I wait in silence, pretending to sleep. Every sound outside the door makes me jump, causing my pulse to skyrocket. Every shadow seems to have a more sinister purpose, making me freeze in fear of being discovered. Pacing would help, if I didn't fear my footsteps being heard.

There's a glass of water on the small table by the window, but I'm afraid to drink from it. Mal said I should be wary of things like that…but at this point I don't really think I have a choice. With Mal's plan, who knows when the next time I'll get something to drink will be? If things go wrong, it could be days. I don't see any reason not to, if Genevieve wanted to drug or poison me, she could have done it while I was knocked out.

By the time evening falls I decide to try it, lifting the glass to my lips as quietly as I can. It doesn't smell odd, there's no chemical scent to suggest it's been laced with anything. So I carefully take a sip, but almost immediately almost spit it out.

It's bitter, not harsh, but there's defiantly something in it. If Mal hadn't said anything, I might not have taken note of it, but I can tell now. I swallow the little but that's left in my mouth, figuring that there's not enough to do anything, and continue to wait.

An hour passes. Then another. It seems like forever until the darkness swallows the sun, and I dare to move from my place on the bed; where I had been sitting for the past few hours. I quietly creep to the door, pressing my ear to the wood. Nothing. I don't think anyone is outside.

As silently as I can, I pull the door open, quietly praying for it not to creak. I open it just enough for me to slip into the dark hallway, and close it behind me. I walk down the hallway slowly, careful to listen for creaks in the floor or the sounds of voices. But all is silent, so I keep going until I reach a door at the end of the hall.

The door is open is open. Just like Mal said it would be. I creep down the stairs, careful to go slowly to muffle my footsteps. It's dark in the basement, but within moments my eyes adjust. I can see pipes and machinery, thing that aren't uncommon to find in a normal household basement. Mal said I need to shut off the power, and to make sure it'll be shut off for a long time. That way, any equipment that might be used to see them coming will die. Plus, it'll be a nice distraction.

I can see the power box on the other side of the room, and I carefully open the metal door. Inside are a variety of switches and button, one of which looks like an emergency shut-off switch. I press that one, ramming it into the metal until it cracks and becomes completely unusable. I can hear the '_whirr_' of the electricity going off, and afterwards the absence of a noise I didn't even know was there. Perfect. Hopefully, Mal will know that it's done. Now maybe I can get to the bottom of this.

"Hey! What are you doing?".

I whip around at the sound of a distinct male voice, sinking into the shadows before I can be seen. I hide near what looks like some sort of generator, which is surrounded by small metal gas tanks. I grab one, ready to use it as a weapon if it comes to it. It's probably not the best idea, since it could leak whatever's inside into the air, but I don't have much of a choice.

As the man grows closer he spots me, his mouth in a perfect 'O' of surprise. Before he can react I rear back and swing, sending the tank hurtling into his skull. There's a crack, and the man crumples to the floor, unconscious. Almost immediately after, I hear Mal's frantic voice speaking through the radio.

"What? What is it?" I ask, pulling it out of my pocket.

"There's a silent alarm!".

I glance over to the generator. Of course. Turning off the power would be the first thing I'd be expected to do if I wanted to escape, to turn off the lock and camera systems. And they can't let me escape. That's what the generator's for. And a silent alarm means I'm about to be swarmed by men just like the first.

"What do I do?".

"Hurry! Hide! We're coming!".

I do as Mal says, sprinting up the stairs. I go straight to the room I was waiting in before, heading straight for the window. I pull up, trying to open it, but to no avail. I dig my nails into the wood and give it another pull, hearing the wood creak in protest. Fed up, I rear back and slam my shoulder against the glass. It stings, sending a wave of pain up my arm. But the glass is completely intact, not even a scratch visible. Damn, it must be plastic or something.

I start to hear distant footsteps, and start to panic. Giving up on escape, I go in the most obvious place I can think of, hopefully meaning it'll he the last place they'll check.

Hunkering down, I pull myself under the bed so I'm lying in the cold wood floor. I can hear footsteps from somewhere in the building, but I don't dare move a muscle. I just lie there and let Mal's last words echo in my brain.

_"We're coming"._

The footsteps grow closer.

'_Hurry, Mal'_ I think '_Please hurry'._


	7. The Escape

_**Review Replies: **_

**Crimson Endings: Thanks!**

**mozzi-girl: Thanks so much, that really means a lot! **

**HopelessRomantic1994: Thanks! **

**Nat157s: Thanks so much, that really means so much, really :) Literally made my day :D**

* * *

Lying on that cold floor brings back a memory.

Not a strong one, in fact, I don't even know where it came from. I just remember being cold, lying on a linoleum floor. I can remember arms wrapped around me, trembling in their strong grip. Feeling their body heat against mine, while a soothingly familiar voice sounds in my ear.

_"You gotta stay grounded…Don't drift away, Nat…Please, say something, Natara…Stay with me…". The voice gets deeper, laced with determination. An involuntary shiver runs down my spine, sending my body into a wave of tremors. "Do you want to stay with me?"._

_"I do"._

I freeze as someone enters the room, nothing visible from the ankle up. I'm so scared that I hold my breath, afraid that the silence will amplify it. If they look down, I'm screwed. I'm completely defenseless down here. I need to get out of here, any second now I could be discovered.

I slowly slide myself down towards the foot of the bed, trying my hardest not to make a sound. If I can just crouch at the end of the frame, I can run out the door if they check under the bed. All I need to do is keep quiet…

I'm almost there when I hear a loud 'creak'.

Crap. The floorboards! I don't have time before I see the person bend down, peering under the bed. A pair of bright blue eyes meet mine.

"Oh my God, it's you".

I pick myself up, crawling towards the warmth of the familiar voice. I feel a pair of strong arms help me up, wrapping me into a hug. I hug this man right back, because I would know those arms and that voice anywhere. This is the same man who held me as I trembled and shook on that cold linoleum floor.

This man's name is Mal Fallon.

* * *

We don't let go for at least a minute.

I let myself take in everything about this man. The texture of his jacket, the scent of his skin. It's funny how I can barely remember anything about him, but yet his touch seems so familiar. Almost like we're been this close so many times, our bodies were molded to fit perfectly into each other.

"We need to get out of here" Mal says after our minute is up.

I nod and we let go, then I follow him into the dark hallway.

Mal must have been planning this for a long time, because he seems to know where he's going. We don't even meet a single soul as we run through the winding halls, and all seems silent.

"Aren't we going after Genevieve?" I whisper, adrenaline taking over my every action. My heart is beating fast enough to hurt, every vein in my body pulsating rapidly.

"It's being taken care of, don't worry" he says, his face a mask of pure concentration as he peeks around the corner.

That's when I smell it. Something faintly similar to something that's long-dead and decomposing; something rotting. And then I realize why we haven't encountered anyone yet, and pure horror grips my brain in an iron fist.

The gas tanks…they wouldn't…

"Mal!" I say sharply, not nothing to keep quiet. "We need to move!".

"What—?".

"Now! Hurry!".

I grab his wrist and pull, practically dragging him down the next hallway. He must now smell it too, because before we reach the end of the hall he's at the same pace as I am. He ends up dragging me in the end, since I don't know where to go.

After a few more hallways, I can see a door.

We full-out sprint to the door, and Mal shoulder-checks it open before we run outside into the cold, dry air.

I already feel heat on my back as we reach the front porch.

I shut my eyes as I'm thrown forward by the force of the explosion, the sound of crackling fire and shattering glass ringing in my ears. I land right on my head, and I squeeze my eyes tighter as before blood oozes into my eyes. I can feel myself rushing towards unconsciousness, but I can't do anything about it.

Maybe I was wrong about Mal. Maybe Genevieve just didn't mention him, because I didn't know him long before I joined her. I wouldn't remember either way, since at this point I don't think I'm fixable. Maybe I'm too hurt to be fixed, too lost to be brought back.

Right now, I don't know which way is the right away out. I don't know who's trying to straighten me out, and who's trying to break me into pieces. Either way, I don't know if they're making a mistake in saving me or not. Because I don't think I'm the person they remember as Natara.

But I'll stay alive, for Mal. He may be a liar…but I know enough to know I cared about him, and he cared about me enough to put his life on the line. I know that he would be crushed if I died.

"Natara!" I hear him call from far away, and I continue to fight against unconsciousness. No, I won't die here. I won't let Mal see me like that, I won't become just a chalk outline waiting for the rain to wash me away.

I don't want Mal to see my lifeless body.

I peel my eyes open, drawing in one heat-filled breath. I'm lying in someone's arms, my head feeling like it weighs a hundred pounds. I'm faintly aware that the ground is moving, that there appears to be some sort of wind rushing through my hair. I'm in the back of a truck…I think.

"Come on, Natara…you gotta stay awake" I hear Mal's voice call.

I can't help it when my eyes close.


	8. Dark Shadows

**Thanks so much to _HopelessRomantic1994_ and _mozzi-girl_ for the reviews!**

* * *

When I open my eyes again, I'm lying down, wrapped in a warm cocoon of blankets.

The walls are a gentle creme color, and in the corner of my eye I can see a single gossamer curtain sway in the breeze of the open window.

"'Morning sleeping beauty". I nearly jump out of my skin at the sound of my partners voice, whipping around so fast the creme walls turn into a whirl of color for a moment. "Relax, it's just me".

I take a breath, trying to calm myself down. I pull a piece of misplaced hair out of my eye to find a white plastic hospital bracelet on my wrist, and make an involuntary sound of disgust.

"Guessing you're felling better" he remarks, but I'm already trying to get up. "Where do you think you're going?".

"After Genevieve. There's no way I'm letting her go _again_".

Mal's eyebrows raise in surprise, his eyes widening. "You remember?".

Then it hits me. There was a time when I didn't know Mal. There was a time when I thought Shawn was alive and functioning and Genevieve was trying to help me. I didn't even notice that it came back…it just seemed natural.

"I guess so…". I pause, because there is one thing that I can't remember no matter how hard I try. While that short time while I was kidnapped is still a bit of a jumbled blur…I can't remember being taken. Now that I think if it, I don't even know what I was doing a week before that. The last thing I remember is making final wedding plans with Oscar…

"Where is he?" I ask suddenly.

"Who?".

"Oscar!".

"I don't know…why?".

"Why? He's my fiancé! Why wouldn't I want to know where he is?" I say, sitting up and starting to get up again. An unreadable expression spreads across Mal's face. "What?".

"You really don't remember…do you?".

"Remember what?" I say, panic rising in my chest. What happened; is he hurt? Dead? Worse?

"You…um…you two broke it off".

"What?" I say, as if I didn't hear him correctly. "What do you mean? Why?". He opens his mouth to answer, but too late. I'm already getting up to leave.

"Where do you think you're going?".

"Home" I snap. "Where hopefully things make sense".

I start to lift myself off the bed, but a wave of dizziness overtakes me, sending the room spiraling and forcing me to stay down.

"Nat…relax. You have a concussion, you'll end up making it worse".

I put my head in my hands, hoping to keep the room still. "I just want to go home" I say quietly, feeling much like a small child.

"Then I'll take you there". Mal grabs my arm to help me up, and I look into his deep ultramarine eyes. There's such a deep amount of trust there, that I don't doubt for one minute that he's telling the truth. "I'll get you home".

* * *

By the time late evening comes I'm climbing into Mal's car, watching the sun disappear from the orange San Francisco sky. I still don't understand what happened, or why. Mal's been too busy trying to get me out to properly explain anything, and I don't dare ask. He looks too tired to really explain anything; with the bags under his eyes and the traces of exhaustion in his voice now more prominent as day wears on. I wonder how much he's slept since I went missing, or even if he's slept at all.

"Did they ever find out what made me lose my memory?" I ask quietly as he cruises down the road. The sky's starting to cloud. I wonder if it's about to rain.

"No, it was out of your system by the time we reached the hospital. I don't think we'll ever know".

We reach my apartment within minutes, pulling up to the curb. I get out and Mal follows behind me, walking me to my apartment to make sure I get inside okay like the hospital instructed. Normally, I would protest, stating that I feel fine. But I just don't feel like arguing, and Mal seems too tired to do so anyway.

I just want things to go back to normal.

I mutter a goodbye as we reach my apartment and I slip inside, using the spare key I always keep above the door frame. I'll have to get the locks changed, who knows where the originals went.

I shut the door behind me and turn on the lights, throwing my jacket on the counter. A headache starts to form just behind my eyes, and I rub my temples gently to ease it's effects as I look around. There's still what looks like wedding plans scattered everywhere, my possessions scattered into places I don't remember putting them. I never did any of that, it doesn't feel like it was me. All this place is to me now is a story never told and a life never lived. The walls surround me with memories long gone, but there's something else there too. The tug of something, like a rope tied around my waist, pulling me to recognition.

My headache increases and I lean against the wall, closing my eyes for just a moment. It's too bright in here, every strand of light feels like a dagger in my brain. When I open them, my heart skips a beat.

There's a dark figure on the other side of the room.

I search around for anything to protect myself with, but the figure's coming towards me too fast. I scramble down the wall, knocking over a lamp with a loud crash. The lights flicker, throwing distorted and sinister-looking shadows across the room. I trip over the edge of the end table and fall back, catching myself with my hands, my mouth open in a silent scream. The figure approaches, but I can't see them. All that's visible are their cold grey eyes, and the rest of their body seems to be engulfed in exaggerated shadows.

I try and get up, but there's no time, because a moment later I watch as the silver glint of a knife appears in their hand.

I throw up my forearms to block my face, preparing for pain. "Get away from me!". I can hear movement, and I scramble away, my eyes squeezed shut for reasons I can't really explain.

"Natara!" I hear someone yell. Someone's banging on my door. The figure takes another step forward, malice radiating off them like body heat.

"Get the hell away from me!" I try to kick out at them, meaning to take out their feet, but my foot only connects with the wall. What the hell is going on?

"Natara!".

There's a moment's pause, and then a crash as Mal kicks down my door.

* * *

**Thanks so much for reading! I'm going to be continuing this in another story since this is going to go in a different direction now, and I don't want to have it go on too long. The title of the sequal is going to be _Addiction, _so be sure to look for it soon :) **


End file.
